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@prvtocol
ᥫ᭡ .°• ━━━ STAR WARS aesthetics, art, & a low activity roleplay blog centered around my original character, BRIENNE GUYOT , & a love of CORUSCANT .
⁰¹ :: CAARD.⁰² :: GIFS/EDITS. ⁰³ :: ART. ⁰⁴ :: HEADCANONS. ⁰⁵ :: PINTEREST.
𝓐 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓭𝔂 𝓲𝓷 :: 𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒾 𝓊𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓇-𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒, 𝒞𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝐼𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎, 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀 / 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 (𝒾𝓂)𝒷𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓍𝒾𝑒𝓉𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔.
Just business. Bolgan and Sukh in a scene from my longform rp with @prvtocol (A Pyke from their faction was stealing product from Gorak's faction so they travel to Toshara to get rid of the Pyke.)
⸻ ⛧ ❝ 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘚𝘌𝘌𝘔 𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘚𝘌, ❞ 𝘊𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘔𝘐𝘙 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕𝘚, starting to design a web. Not exactly the kind that spiders weave, but one that twists with various curved fine lines. Fortunately, he has steady hands. ❝ Not just the kind that makes you feel a little awkward with me painting your arm, that's normal. But you are burdened. Sad, maybe? ❞ Though he was not using cards, he was using something. After all, she paid him for this & this wasn't just pretty paint.
❝ Either you need to let go of something, or jump into it. ❞ The web he paints twists as well. Dots are added, forming a constellation. If she studied the stars from the viewpoint of her own world, Brienne might recognize it as a significant pattern from the skies of Aargau. Of course, Casimir does not know of the world personally, neither does the name come to him. He just knows that this is the constellation her painting requires. ❝ Sometimes fate calls us to more and it yearns when we don't meet with it. That yearning is not always a bad thing though. ❞
With a half thought, he answers her question, ❝ One to two weeks. Depending on how often you wash. ❞ His gaze was fixed on her arm & the delicate strokes of the paint. It was not as if he was ignoring her, but thoroughly invested in the craft.
Dainty fingers of the hand free of the brush move to fiddle with the pearls dotting her long necklace, an outward expression of what Mister Casimir then calls it, tense. “I do?” Daft, wide eyes play along, her lips staying parted as she listens to his explanation. Tense but not for the discomfort of publicly having her arm painted by a stranger as if it were a child’s face at a carnival.
She blinks, sobering her expression, but her brows grow heavy in the center. She’s unsure if she agrees with his assessment. Sad? No, Brienne hardly considers herself sad. Stressed, yes. Tired, often enough, with the travel expected of her recent promotion. Uncertain whether the job is worth the added cortisol, definitely. But to be called by fate to more? Her thinking of retirement is really a call to less.
“Oh. I see,” she muses noncommittally, desiring to keep her thoughts her own. At least her worry about the ink’s permanence dissipates with the next answer. Not a month or more as she first suspected. Not that she intends to wear arm-revealing clothing outside the privacy of her apartment. “That’s a rather intricate design. Is it something specific?” Not knowing what she’s looking at.
sorry I just had to get that off my chest
After ♡
He does not miss the disbelief, and he doesn't begrudge it either: it's a dangerous world, and this danger is what has made, over the ages, his people be the way they are. Only the strong can protect themselves and their people.
But this, as usual, is contested by the views of a Jedi: those who have the means to protect should do so, and Tarre, who has over the years found a balance, remains within it: if he can help, he will, where the Force points him. It's part of what he's good at.
He's not so good at economics, in this system he doesn't know. But diplomacy has taught him more than most and then rulership had him brush off on much that he had never expected to need.
"The investment and brokerage accounts might be an angle." He admits. "Depending on how the funds are invested, it might not be implausible that someone has traced those accounts to something the bank should not have done." He points out. There, the Force almost seems to point, but it's brief. He's not certain it's a 'yes' so much as a 'perhaps', or a 'closer'. "Have you noticed any unauthorized accesses at any point?" He, and he's started pacing, up and down, before she offers him a seat.
And then, after a moment, he takes it, and sits slightly leaning forward: not the straight back of a Jedi, but something far more lost in thought.
The pacing on her herringbone-patterned floor severs Brienne’s focus. Gaze flits from the datapad on her lap, to the roaming bounty hunter, to the nearest comm unit tucked next to the double oven in the kitchen, and then back. Again, she thinks of calling the building's droid security or CSF. He needs to sit; she needs to breathe, but the weight on her chest says otherwise. Nothing makes sense, and his suggestions only further her uncertainties.
An angle? Unauthorized access? The bank’s oversight? Head shakes back and forth before a “No, I have not” falls quietly from a mouth already ajar. She hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, and as any sensible Aargauun, especially one schooled in finance, she knows to stay on top of her financial streams.
His taking the seat on her couch downgrades the alarm, but only slightly. “Sorry, but does your client lead you to make such a suggestion?” A preemptive apology for asking, but also to highlight that she's in the dark. If he won't tell her who the client is, she's going to need to hire someone else to find out. How does one even go about doing that, however?
I need more stamps on my passport, books, skin care, scented candles, tea blends and lingerie.
The little house she chooses is quite interesting, actually. Though Casimir is no traditional fortune-teller or seer, he cannot help but analyze the meager choosing of one of his conduits. Still, he is thankful for the payment and makes quick work of putting the credits away into a pocket before choosing a brush for himself.
She seemed nervous now with her forearm bare and her name offered. ❝ It is lovely to meet you Brienne. ❞ Casimir disregards poetic words or mentioning something about fate, destiny, or the universe. It doesn't seem necessary and would only make her pull away, which would not bode well for an accurate painting. So, gently, he takes hold of her forearm and he hopes that she might be thankful that his hands weren't cold.
He does not wish to invade her personal space, but touch was important in order to know what to paint. His thumb rubs against her skin, and he studies her face as he does so to grab a sense of what she was comfortable with. The other hand dips the brush into the herbal paint and he starts with central dots along the middle of the underside of her arm. Instead of the paint feeling cold (despite the chill of Coruscant), it would feel warm.
❝ Tell me, Brienne. What do you do to relax? How do bring enjoyment into your life? ❞
Charming, she would say of the little house trinket she holds. If flipped upside down, its rounded rooftop would fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. A small abode, and if scaled up, just enough for one person or perhaps two. Maybe a family could live comfortably within if need be. Brienne does not come from a background of tiny houses; hers are grand estates and penthouse suites.
The seller takes her arm, making two points of contact: his hand and the brush. Again, she feels a bit daft for allowing it. Why is it so hard to say no? At least the ink and his fingers are not cold against her barely tepid skin.
“To relax?” Discerning gaze, intent on watching the brush work, blinks up at him. Her first thought is returning home, making a cup of herbal tea, and pouring a hot bath, but somehow that feels too intimate to share with just anyone. It’s also as if that solitary and quiet existence is only for her to know. Rather, she considers her social persona, the heiress in her.
“Let’s see,” she hums, “Perhaps a spa day, or even a spa weekend away from Coruscant. Traveling can be relaxing,” usually, she would drawl, but holds back, switching the topic back to painting. “Did you say how long this takes to fade?”
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓 ―― Repost, don’t reblog.
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ――
Full name. brienne corinne guyot. Nicknames. people use her full name. bri is not common. Alias. bri marton (past/clone wars). gigi nok (future mob wife alias). Gender. cis female. Height. 5'5. Age. 40s. (mentally, i default to the year 3 BBY, but I write her at many different ages/time periods). Spoken languages. galactic basic.
𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ――
Hair colour. dark brown. Eye colour. clear blue. Skin tone. fair. Body type. thin and unathletic. Voice. soft and breathy. accent is modern RP with slight french inflections. Dominant hand. right. Posture. poised and pin-straight. Tattoos. none. Birthmarks. none. Most noticeable features. long hair, translucent skin, facial symmetry, upturned nose.
𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 ――
Place of birth. new escrow (capital of aargau). Hometown. Home planet. aargau. Siblings. none. Parents. corinne guyot & henry landry. (scandulously divorced when brienne was younger; henry is deceased in 3 BBY).
A𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ――
Occupation. bank representative (past). funding manager (imperial era). Current residence(s). coruscant. Close friends. a natural progression of adulthood and circumstance, brienne loses a lot of close friends as time passes. from moving planets to the clone wars and changing jobs. atm she has more acquaintances. Relationship status. single when entering her 40s, and always before. Financial status. wealthy. Driver’s license. she cannot drive and relies on drivers, public transport, and automatic pilots. Criminal record. smuggling stolen weapons for her father (clone wars era). financially abetting the pyke syndicate. [tbc TBH]. Vices. sleep aids. skipping meals.
𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ――
Sexual orientation. hetero-demi. Preferred emotional role. caretaker. Preferred sexual role. submissive. Libido. low, but adapts to her partner's needs. Turn-ons. confidence. deep voice. possessive gestures and touches. do things with her hair. [redacted TBH]. Turn-offs. poor hygiene. emotional immaturity. lack of drive. Relationship tendencies. acts of service, i.e., indulging her mans in all ways. supportive/loyal. obliger.
𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 ――
Character’s theme song. RØRE - "Etne" Hobbies to pass time. tidying, organizing, and cleaning. acts of self-care. tending her plants. list making. Mental illnesses. mild ocd. circumstantial anxiety. Left or right-brained. balanced. Fears. aging. being taken by the hutts again. Self-confidence level. average; professionally, much more so.
tagged by: @earnsaber & @temperedfaith (ty both sm!) tagging: anyone who enjoys filling these out! ♡
He does not miss the way her hands are shaking, but he's also not going to point it out to her. Instead, he watches, and listens, and tilts his head in the way that could be a man thinking and is, in his case, a man listening to the Force. A man looking for deception and finding none, and finding only the kind of distress he does not regret causing, because if it hadn't been him it would have been someone else, but that he doesn't find pleasing. And, at least, he's willing to consider the situation.
"I believe you." He says, in the end. He adds no theatrics to it: it's simply the truth. Whatever the truth might be, she does believe what she's saying, and that is enough.
"Alright. I'm going to help you." He decides. "For now, at the very least. Let's figure out why there is a bounty on you. Step by step." He offers.
He's lowering his voice, and he's shifting his posture, and he has inhabited the Jedi diplomat for so long that the register is natural now. He hopes it will help.
"Can you show me your accounts? We can start by checking nobody has used your name for something illegal. Sometimes they post the bounties by tracking the accounts, and they don't check further." He offers her.
She needs, he hopes, something reasonable. And the Force is not singing a warning just yet, so they might not have to move immediately.
Tension tenting her brows lessen a modicum, only to be replaced by another layer of disbelief when offering to help. When is someone’s word enough these days? And enough that he would offer assistance? Nothing is free, a truism spoken well beyond her money-focused home planet. When he asks to see her accounts, suspicion clenches her rapidly beating chest. She just professed her wealth, and maybe he wants to know how wealthy she is.
Long lashes blink, and sight dips again to the dimmed screen of the datapad. You’re alone with a very dangerous man, Brienne. He can kill you if he wants to. What options do you have? None. “Well, I,” she starts with a whisper, frowning a moment in her despair. “I have quite a few. Two private banking accounts, four investment and brokerage accounts,” she pauses. The rich stay rich by having their credits work for more credits. “And uh, some credit market accounts, but they’re currently locked. It can’t be those.”
“You may sit, if you'd like.” A hand releases its grip on the datapad to gesture to the coach at the side of her chair.
listen...spray some of that nice perfume...use the good hand cream...wear that outfit even if you are just staying home...light those special candles you have been saving...enjoy those little things even if there is no occasion
There are many in the Galaxy, Yan is far from unaware of this, who have never met a Jedi. Who might never meet one, and who only know about them what the holoseries explain. And those are always rather dramatized, even if they do have a certain following in the Temple itself. But this is not something commented about, and what matters, and what Jedi are taught, are that people do not always know much about them.
This is not a bad thing, in his eyes, even if it makes some situations more complex.
"Many of us are diplomats." He explains. Curiosity is not something he feels offended by, not when it's well-meant, and when he does not sense malice. And then, considering it, and letting the considering show, he speaks again. "And while there are dedicated scholars among our number, nowadays we are mostly focused on the war effort."
Which is, he believes, unfortunate, and which he will not discuss in detail.
"But we have many scholars, we always have, and many travel often. Have you met others of our order, before?"
The war effort pulls in people from all sectors and professions. Despite Aargau’s professed neutrality in the war, even Brienne feels its tug in the fluctuating markets, concerned clients needing reassurance about the security of their financial assets, and her own safety when traveling. It is the war effort also that makes her cognizant of the Jedi. Their activities make holonews headlines.
“If my poorly-conceived questions do not make my answer obvious.” Brienne muses apologetically, her chin dipping as she acknowledges her ignorance. “But no, I have not. I’m rather new to Coruscant, and it's unlikely to cross a Jedi’s path at home.” The diversity of the ecumenopolis is something the young banker is slowly growing accustomed to; there are so many different species in one place that every day she encounters something or someone new.
“Considering the Jedi are so few, I mean. At least, that’s what I've heard.” She pauses, a pleasant smile stretching. “Is your presence here diplomacy then?”
ᥫ᭡ .°• @nightbrcther :: what if: brienne's imperial superiors find out all of that time she took off was because she had the pyke syndicate breathing down her neck | Start with "What if..." and give me a situation to see how my muse would react. ( accepting )
How long does she have before the ISB gets involved? While Brienne's clearance levels at the Imperial Finance Ministry are relatively low and the building contracts she's assigned to are not overly secretive, the ever-tightening security protocols mean this would create automatic suspicion. Even if her involvement with the Pykes is deemed personal and unrelated to work, the association alone would likely lead to the termination of her job and the authorities getting involved. Is she breaking the law and abetting criminals? Yeah...
Meanwhile, she might be panicking even more about what the Pyke underboss Denegak Palas, who orchestrated this whole thing with her father's fortune, will do. Pyke business is their own, and well... how long until he sends his lieutenant, Bolgan, to terminate her? It's time to leave Coruscant... ;_;
Let Me Freshen Up
